Terrible Truths
by Lunatic Wisdom
Summary: All it took was one confession to throw three siblings into a fight for survival. When one of them is separated and meets two men on the run, she begins to uncover truths that could soon change the fate of the world: for better or for worse. MurtaghOC


_**Terrible Truths**_

**Chapter 1:** A Father's Safekeeping

_**Disclaimer:** _I don't own _Eragon_, its characters or even their plot. They belong to Christopher Paolini as I own my characters and this fanfiction's plot.

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><p>As the sun slowly rose from the far horizon, it began to bestow life to the recently darkened land. The rays of light peeked through the tops of fragmented buildings of Dras-Leona, slowly engulfing the town with the bright sunlight. Despite the warm sensation of a new day, the outlook of the citizens within the town still remained somber as ever.<p>

Despite the changing seasons, the conditions of the town remained selfsame; a mess of decrepit buildings designed to overlook the twisted and confined streets. To some of the citizens, it was a squalid, overcrowded prison that was enough to be called a 'home'. For the rest, it was an eternal damnation within city walls. Life seemed to repeat itself within the city; nothing but hopelessness and suffering lingered in the air.

There were never pleasant sounds within the town, for it usually occupied with screams, cries of help, and other atrocious resonances. Constant curses rang in the air from drunks or foul mouths and all sorts of commotion flooded the mucky streets. It was a miracle the citizens could live within these dreadful circumstances.

As a daily custom, guards were dispatched to assigned districts, recruiting sons of many families to join the royal army. Day by day, sons were pulled away from their mothers' grasps as they were forced into a life of misery. Luckily, some returned home, but with a price; they returned, hardened by the new way of life they lived. While for most, they perished after the conditions and rigorous training.

On this particular day, a portly guard-by the name of Einar-trekked through the waterlogged streets to the home of the local blacksmith, Aksel. News had spread earlier that month that the eldest son had come of age and according to the laws, he must be drafted to the royal army. Many had failed in retrieving the blacksmith's oldest and Einar had had enough with the hindering.

As he approached the disheveled home, he caught sight of a young maiden fetching water from the nearby well. He whistled for her attention, startling her in the process, causing her to drop the bucket on the swampy ground. He was familiar with her as the blacksmith's daughter and motioned for her to approach him.

"Wench, call your father immediately!" he ordered, holding a scroll before her clear blue eyes. "I've come with orders to collect your brother so he may serve our mighty King Galbatorix within the confines of his majestic army."

"Y-yes sir," the maid stuttered immediately.

Noting the guard's irritable look, she disregarded the fallen bucket and took off to the blacksmith shop, where the sounds of metal clanging echoed throughout the area. She disappeared within the structure, leaving the guard to wait impatiently for the blacksmith.

It was before the last thread of his self-control broke did Aksel the blacksmith appear, wiping his hands free from grime. Behind him, his children followed close behind.

The eldest son, Anton, stood lean and tall, nearly reaching the blacksmith's height. He was almost the mirror image of Aksel when the man was his age; light brown hair complete with clear blue eyes. He wore a short, loose-fitting tunic paired with leather breeches and hunting boots. He had just reached the age of adulthood-eighteen years-and was one of the collections that day.

Following Anton, was his younger brother Alvis. Like his brother, he was slender yet slightly built. He was a few inches from Anton's height. He wore a threatening glare with his viridescent eyes, partly hidden by his untamable shock of black hair. Although he wore the same outfit as his brother, he opted for a leather belt to secure his tunic.

Lastly, came Aksel's pride and joy-the young Illisimé. She was a quiet girl-shy of sixteen years in a couple of months-who often had her exuberant moments. She had her flowing, light brown hair into a loose bun with numerous strands framing her face. She was dressed in a simple brown dress with a beige chemise underneath. Illisimé was small in stature, giving her the appearance of a child rather than a young woman, but despite that, she was able to handle herself well with her brothers.

Aksel continued to wipe his hands, while giving a dangerous look at the guard. He spat to the side and crossed his brawny arms. "Away with you Einar; I need no trouble from you today. Emil knows of my answer. There is no reason to waste my breath on petty words." He grew tired of the captain's relentless attempts in retrieving Anton and stood his ground, not caring about the consequences that would follow.

Illisimé clung to his sleeve, begging him to control his temper. Aksel was renowned for his volatile rage, which often lead to many physical disputes with his fellow residents. Anton and Alvis stood tense-the latter ready to jump at the opportunity for a fight.

"You fool! You do realize the mistake you are making: disobeying my master's order like the feral animal you are," Einar snapped, approaching him with a fierce appearance. "You will be hung at the gallows for your insolence!"

Aksel puffed his chest out and looked threateningly into Einar's eyes.

Einar shook uncontrollably, trying to contain his anger. "My orders are to return with your son, not empty handed Aksel! Stop playing this simpleminded game and give him to me. Far too long have you stalled with your feeble excuses-now is the time to pay up."

At that moment, Aksel swung his arm out, trying to free himself from Illisimé's hold. "My son stays with me! He shall not serve in that pitiful army and that megalomaniac of a king!" he cried out, "Neither him nor my family will be bound to any servitude!"

Einar inched forward to Anton and Aksel reacted by breaking free from Illisimé's grasp. Without hesitation, he brought his fist back and with a tremendous force, landed square on Einar's jaw, sending the guard flying back and unto the mucky ground.

"You try that again and I will gut you like a fish," Aksel threatened, closing the distance between the two with hefty strides. He stopped above the trembling guard and cracked his knuckles to emphasis his warning.

"You were once a familiar of mine, but I shall put that aside and fulfill my duties to the king. Stop this foolishness immediately and submit to the will of King Galbatorix." Einar stumbled as he struggled to stand up. He wiped the corner of his mouth and noted the blood staining his hand. He looked straight into Aksel's eyes. Sensing the blood thirst, he began to retreat slowly, much to the amusement of the growing crowd as they began to jeer in unison.

His words had little to no effect on Aksel and knew it was useless to continue with this charade. He stumbled back and managed to give one final warning. "You hear me Aksel. You will pay for your insolence! Mark my words!" With that and a flip of his cape, he disappeared within the growing crowd, drawing attention from several bystanders, several who were cheering on Aksel's defiance and the rest taunting the retreating coward.

The blacksmith cleared his throat and turned around to face his children, who were startled over their father's bravery. "What a spineless, pathetic excuse of a guard, unwilling to stay and finish what he started. Worry not Anton, you are safe my son," was all he said, before walking to their home.

Alvis took note of Anton's convulsing figure but before he could restrain his brother, Anton broke into a sudden dash. "Father, wait!" he cried out, running to the receding figure. He grabbed unto Aksel's tunic and forced him to turn around. "Why must you put your life on the line to protect me?"

Aksel took the young man by the shoulders and gently shook him, as if to awaken his perception. "Anton, you are a fool to not realize the complexity of this situation."

"Then tell me why Father! Why must you always shelter me from the ways of this world?" Anton demanded.

The blacksmith shook his head in disbelief. As he released his grip from Anton's shoulder, he began to back away. "I want you to live the life we never had! I want you to be successful and get out of this wretched town," he quietly spoke in a serious tone, "you have much to live for, and I will not watch you throw it all away for soldiery. Is it so wrong of me to guide you to the right path?"

Illisimé stepped forward to intervene but Alvis restrained her by extending his arm out, indicating that it was not her business to interfere. She opened her mouth to protest this, but the look on Alvis' face implied it would be useless.

"You have a chance to make a name for yourself, but you would throw it all away for something as trivial as this?" Aksel angrily fired at the eldest, "What do you hope to gain from joining the army?"

Anton approached him and stopped several inches away from his face. "I intend to live my own life without your restraint. I will bring honor to our name, just you wait and see. Then you will come praising, regretting your attempts at dissuading me."

Silence befell the two and Aksel huffed out his sudden irritation. "This discussion is finish Anton," he muttered, before walking back to the shop, "your foolishness has you blinded, and it is disappointing to see so." He paused for a second and turned his head to the side. "I thought we raised you to be better than that." Without another word, he disappeared into the workshop.

Feeling the atmosphere make a turn for the worse, Alvis cleared his throat to call his sister's attention. "Come Lissie, we are low on meat and Father has requested we buy from Eveline." He began walking in the direction of their home, staring at the morning sky with a vacant expression. "Grab your cloak now," he said without looking back.

Illismé ignored her brother's instructions and calmly walked to Anton's side. She gently pulled on his sleeve and stared upwards, hoping to meet his gaze. "Anton, you must take heed to Father's security."

Turning around to find their brother continuing to ignore her, Alvis rolled his eyes and made a remark. "Lissie, it's no use. This blundering fool won't listen to you. You'll get more progress in moving a wall than him," he called out, before disappearing to their home.

Before Illisimé could speak, she received a gentle push from Anton. "Please go Lissie, and don't worry about me. I'll be fine." He tried to smile, but Illisimé didn't buy it.

"You are lying Anton," she mumbled, "I know you better than that. Please, tell me what's bothering you! I want to help you!" She continued tugging on his sleeve until he slapped her hands away, enraged with her pestering.

"Learn your place Illisimé," Anton retorted as his sister backed away in disbelief. "Know that this is none of your business. Stay out of my personal affairs and leave me alone!" He stormed past her and into their home, roughly brushing against his brother, who was already leaving.

Alvis sighed as he heard a door slam in the background. "You should stop doing that," he stated, handing Illisimé her cloak.

She grumbled to herself and snatched it from his hands. "Doing what?"

"That annoying trait about you; the constant nagging and poking your head into stuff you aren't a part of," he smirked, walking past by her and messing her hair in the process.

"Mind you, if you were in Anton's place, you would most likely be begging for help; let alone someone to hear you out," Illisimé brought up, struggling to catch up to her brother's long strides as she tried to fix the mess he made of her hair.

Alvis laughed. "That's the difference between Anton and I. I don't need help, especially from a prying little sister, such as yourself."

"Oh you!" She slapped his arm as they continued their stroll to the marketplace, occasionally avoiding the reckless driving of merchants and hands of pickpocketers.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Welcome to _Terrible Truths_. Thank you reader, for clicking and reading this story. I hope it was enjoyable for you, as it was for me writing it.

Next chapter, Illisimé will meet a certain someone and I hope you're ready cause the story will start progressing from there!

So far, we have beginning of this tale, that shall _try_ to follow the main story line. We having the daring herione, Illisimé, who will show her true colors in a little while. She is caring, but very quick to anger. She soon gains a love interest, but it won't be shown until the very end of this story, thus leading to one of the main conflicts of the entire series.

If the characters are not to your liking, fret not! That is what **character development** is for!

Enough of my rambling now. I do hope you enjoy what this story has to offer, along with the series, and I also hope to see you till the very end.

**Name Pronunciation and ages:**

Illisimé (15-16): _E-lee-se-may_

Anton (18): _An-tin_

Alvis (17):_ Al-vis_

Aksel (40): _Axe-eel_

Eveline (39): _Eh-ve-leen_

Elda (16): _El-dah_


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